


A Very Complicated OT4

by ShandyCandy278



Series: Undertale One-Shots [19]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cliffhanger, Cross is an idiot, Cross is oblivious, Dream is oblivious, M/M, Multi, Nightmare and Killer are jerks, SO, Soulmates, and they dont get together either, but everyone is technically originally named sans, if you want them to get together, inspired by Twitter stuffs, they are not together yet, unfortunately, you're gonna have to write it yourself, your soulmates name is written on your wrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShandyCandy278/pseuds/ShandyCandy278
Summary: AKA, Cross was not prepared. At all.
Relationships: Future Killercreammare
Series: Undertale One-Shots [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587931
Comments: 41
Kudos: 171





	A Very Complicated OT4

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know I'm over a month late for CKtE, shush.
> 
> Writer's block has had me in quite the grip- but after I saw this tweet ( https://twitter.com/GrinningKit/status/1286724907246788608?s=20 ) chain between TheGrinningKitten, 0netype, and LyraLV- I just knew that I had to write it.
> 
> And I've been meaning to write killercreammare anyway, so... *shrug*
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! :D

Sans had four soulmates. 

It was a fact that he had known ever since he had first learned of them. 

… and _one_ of them had his name.

Which he found was odd. As far as he was concerned, _he_ was the _only_ “Sans” that existed. But perhaps there was someone out there with his name, who also had “Sans” on their wrist- and, hopefully, they would _also_ have the other two names that he had- Dream and Nightmare.

Pretty thematic, but hey, they sounded adorable and he loved them to the very bottom of his soul.

And if anyone made fun of that, they’d be seeing the ends of his blades at their throats.

He normally kept the names hidden under his jacket sleeves, though. Soulmates were a more private thing, and he didn't want anyone to constantly pry into his life asking about them.

Although, things certainly changed one night after he woke up from a particularly bad dream and woke up staring into a single cyan eye light.

“Intriguing…” The voice spoke from the darkness, echoing slightly. The shadows seemed to move with it, curling around the two of them, isolating them. “What a peculiar taste for one’s negativity.”

Understandably, Sans screamed.

Something thick and black and goopy wrapped around his skull and mouth, silencing him. The face leaned in close- almost too close. A single black-boned hand raised, pressing itself to the being’s pearly-white and far-too-wide grin.

“Shhh,” They said, amusement flickering in the single cyan eye light. “We wouldn’t want to wake up the others~ now if you be good, I won’t have to dust you. Are we clear?”

Shaking, Sans nodded. The grin grew wider, and the being retracted himself, the thing preventing him from speaking slithering away. With a glance to the side, he realized that it was a black tendril- one of the four attached to this other person’s back. They sat down on the edge of the bed a short distance away from Sans, their posture straight. Professional. Confident. Clearly, they knew what they were doing, and they held power. Sans’ magic flickered at his fingertips, ready to fight.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, _Sans.”_

The magic flickered away at the sudden _heaviness_ and _weight_ that pressed down on his shoulders, and the other’s grin grew.

“H-” Sans sat up straighter than he had been, and he swallowed. “How did you know my name?”

“You are not the only one.” The other said, amused. “In fact, there are hundreds, thousands- perhaps even infinite versions of you. But,” They chuckled, “I don’t think that that is the question that you _should_ be asking.”

His mind was still waking up, drowsy from the restless sleep he had had. It took a few seconds before it managed to catch up to speed, and his cheeks flushed slightly in mortified embarrassment. 

“Who are you?” He asked, refusing to acknowledge his blunder further. “How did you get into my room? Why are you here?”

 _“How_ I got in is none of your concern,” The other replied, amusement in his voice. “But I am here to recruit you, and to offer my services.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“Of course I did. I told you why I was here.”

“You didn't answer my question about who you are."

Their grin grew wider. “Oh, my apologies- is that important information for you?”

_“Yes. It is.”_

“Very well then.” They placed a hand to their chest, tendrils curling forebodingly behind him. “I am the king of negativity,” They placed the hand back down on the bed, slowly leaning in close. That heavy, despairing feeling grew stronger, seizing his soul and making it thud harshly with fear. “Prince of darkness, demon of the deepest and darkest crevices of your mind. My strength and power are infinite, and I am _everywhere.”_ He was right in front of Sans’ face- just a breath away. “... is that answer enough for you? _Sans?”_

Hearing his name in such a degrading, mocking fashion made him grit his teeth. He used his hand to push them away, inwardly cringing at the odd texture that made the other up. The other let him push them away, although they didn't go far. “No,” He said simply, his voice tense and short. “I want your name.”

“Oh,” They tilted their head slowly, staring at Sans with that singular eye light so intensely that it froze Sans in place with the jolt of unease and foreboding that followed. “You wish to know my name now? How-” The tendrils shot at Sans, lifting him from his bed and pinning him to the wall behind him, sneering. “ _polite of you.”_

Sans struggled against his sudden bindings, but one of the tendrils became as sharp as his sword and positioned itself right in front of Sans’ soul. He froze.

“My name is of no concern to you,” The other said, his voice calm and uninterested as they stood up from the bed- as though they weren’t seconds away from killing someone. “Or at least, for now, it isn’t. As I said before, Sans, I have a proposition for you. You have managed to catch my eye, so I consider it only fair that I offer you the biggest chance of your pathetic, insignificant mortal life.”

When Sans didn't reply immediately, the pressure the tendrils exerted on him increased. He winced, growling.

“And what is this _proposition?”_ He bit out. His response seemed to please the other, although the pressure on his arms and legs didn't let up in the slightest.

“For you to join me. See,” He walked closer, his movements so smooth and flowing that it looked like he was floating. “I plan on taking over this pathetic, ungrateful, oblivious Multiverse. However, I have reached the point in which my name is well known across many various universes. What I need,” His grin grew even more. “Is a bodyguard. One that will protect me as I go throughout both my day-to-day life and my battles. And you,” He looked up at Sans, the ends of one of the tendrils caressing his cheek. He leaned away from the touch. “Are a perfect candidate.”

“And what if I refuse?” He challenged, not caring for how the pressure increased on his limbs at his tone- although he did wince a little.

“You would be a fool to refuse my proposition,” They hissed, the shadows of the room writhing and growing darker with the other’s rising anger. “Although, if you _were_ to refuse such a gracious offer of mine, I assure you that you would _severely_ regret your words and suffer for your idiocy.” A moment, and then- “As would your brother, for that matter.”

The words fell upon him with the weight of a thousand tons, punching him in the gut and leaving him to be further crushed under the weight of them. Based on the look on the other’s face, he knew _exactly_ what his words had done.

“If you need more specifics, I am always willing to inform you of the-”

“No, you don’t.” He interrupted.

“So have you made your choice, then?” They asked, waiting. 

It most certainly didn't _feel_ like a choice.

“Fine. I accept.”

The person released him suddenly, dropping him onto his bed, pleased.

“A wise decision, Sans.” They said with a self-satisfied smirk. “You are to pack your things and be ready by this time tomorrow-”

“But-”

“Ah-ah-ah-” A tendril lightly tapped Sans’ teeth, the other’s expression stern. Sans was tempted to bite it. “No interrupting me. I am your boss now. I will let your impudence slide this _once.”_ The threat was very clear in his tone. “Do I make myself clear?”

“... _crystal.”_ Sans ground out.

“Good.” The tendril removed itself. “You will pack your things and be ready by this time tomorrow. I’ll be sending someone to pick you up- you are not to inform anyone of our little _arrangement.”_ He turned, likely to leave the way he came- and then looked back over his shoulder with a knowing smile. “And, considering where you’ll be going, you might want to pick a little _nickname_ for yourself.”

“What?” Sans let out a bitter laugh as he replied, distaste and sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Is everyone else’s name ‘Sans’ too?”

The smile grew a little, and then without another word, they left- leaving Sans in his dark, empty room to contemplate just _what_ exactly that meant.

* * *

It turned out that, indeed, _everyone else’s name was Sans._

He still didn't know how he felt about it.

But at least he knew who his new ‘boss’ was now.

He was the only one in this stupid gang whose name _wasn’t_ Sans.

… and his name was also one of the ones on Sans’ wrist.

“Heyyy X-man~”

“I told you,” He said as he pulled his sleeves up over his wrist again, tossing a glare at one of his co-workers. “The name that I chose is _Cross.”_

“Meh- you still look like a walking X to me.” He shrugged, his grin wide. “What were you doing over here? Bemoaning at how low your chances are to find your soulmate now that you know about the Multiverse~?”

“That is none of your business.” He huffed in reply as he folded his arms, still glaring at Killer. It had been one of the things the gang had constantly teased him about since he had first arrived a few days ago- although, none of them seemed aware of the fact that he had _four_ soulmates- much less that only one of them was named Sans. It hadn’t been as much of a blow in comparison to the fact that he was soulmates with _Nightmare,_ but they had all taken it as though he had realized how low his chances of finding his soulmate was, and for that small mercy he was grateful. Although, relationships with coworkers were usually dramatic and overly-complicated, so maybe he should have expected it- but _come on!_

Killer just laughed and slung his arm over Cross’ shoulders. When Cross cringed away from him, Killer’s grin grew. 

“Yeah, I thought you might say that, Exie.” Killer chuckled. “Unlike the rest of you, I already have mine.”

“What- is your soulmate _Nightmare?”_ He asked sarcastically.

Instead of a laugh, though- Killer gave him finger guns.

“Eyy, you got it in one!” He snickered. “Certainly luckier than you, eh?”

…

…

…

 _“Please_ tell me you’re joking.”

“Sorry Crossy~” Killer gave Cross a few light, patronizing pats on the shoulder. “But~!” Killer pulled down his sleeve, revealing three names- the same exact ones that were on Cross’ arm. “I’m pleased to say that I’m not.”

That was it.

There was _no way_ that _any of this_ was a coincidence if two of his three soulmates were here and already knew each other. The idea was absurd, and frankly, highly unlikely. 

He had been thinking about it ever since Nightmare had first appeared in his room- he was nothing all that special in comparison to the others- much less the others in his “AU”. In fact, from what he heard- there were even more impressive, more powerful people that Nightmare would want for a bodyguard. How and why he could have possibly had the misfortune of catching Nightmare’s attention out of the hundreds of thousands of other alternates didn't make sense…

… unless, of course, Nightmare _knew._

“Screw this-” He ducked out from under Killer’s arm and turned around, storming away from the sounds of Killer’s laughter.

“Where are you going?!” Killer called after him, his laughter echoing. Cross could almost see the expression on his face in perfect clarity- and he _hated_ it. Cross didn't reply, but he knew that Killer was following him anyway.

When he stormed into Nightmare’s office, Nightmare was already looking at him- as though he had known he was coming- had known everything that had transpired, in fact. Especially with that stupid smile on his stupid face, his singular eye light shining in amusement.

“Hello, Cross-”

“Cut the crap.” He snapped, slamming his hand on the table and growling. “I _know_ you did this.”

“Me? Do something?” Nightmare asked, intrigued. Infuriatingly enough, he didn't seem bothered by Cross’ presence in the room- much less his emotions. In fact, Nightmare even looked a bit smug. Cross’ fingers twitched with the need to wipe that look off of Nightmare’s face. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

“You _planned_ this, didn't you?” He accused, jamming his index finger into the wood of Nightmare’s desk. “How did you find out?!”

“Find out about what? How amusing it is when you’re shown just how pathetic you are?”

“No,” He growled through his gritted teeth. “How did you find out about- about my soulmates?”

He cursed himself for stumbling slightly over his words, but in all fairness, he had never really discussed his soulmates openly to anyone but Papyrus before. Saying them out loud felt like he was confessing a secret- one that he held far too close to his heart to be said as carelessly as he had.

But perhaps what was even more unsettling was the fact that Nightmare’s knowing grin didn't grow. In fact, his expression morphed into one of curiosity- perhaps even pleasant surprise.

Well- of course, Nightmare would be surprised. He probably thought that Cross wouldn’t catch on for a while. _Jerk._

“Oh?” Nightmare asked. Footsteps behind him indicated that Killer had caught up to them, and Cross had to swallow down the sudden anxiety that bubbled up in his chest. Regardless, he sucked up his courage anyway to continue.

“That’s why you asked me to join you.” He said confidently. “There’s no way I just- caught your eye. You _had_ to have known.”

“Known what?” 

Cross growled. Nightmare was doing a good job of playing innocent. 

_Fine._

He’d say it out loud then. 

“That _we,_ ” He gestured between the three of them. “Are soulmates.”

The shock on Nightmare’s face was instant.

So was the amused, disbelieving laugh that bubbled up out of Killer.

“Oh, please-” Cross had the feeling that if Killer currently had his eye light summoned, it would have been rolled. “Can you believe this, boss?” He walked so that he was standing closer to both of them, looking at Cross. “If you really were one of our soulmates, surely you would have brought it up before now. And if Nightmare had found them, he would have told me, right Boss?”

“I’m not exactly _thrilled_ about it either,” Cross growled. “I’m only talking about this because it’s the only thing that _actually makes sense_ about _any_ of this!”

“You just want to get into his pants.”

“Do not!” Cross fumed, blushing at the implications. _As if!_

“That blush says otherwise~”

“Cross,” Nightmare stood up, his face serious. “This is not something you can merely assume. Might I remind you that-”

“You don’t believe me?!” 

“I didn't say that.” Nightmare replied calmly. Then, after a moment, he held out his hand. “Give me your arm, Cross.”

“If you wanted proof, you could have just said so.” He grumbled. He reached down and pulled up his sleeve before holding it out to Nightmare. There, written in plain view, were the names of his soulmates: Nightmare, Dream, and Sans. Nightmare stared at the names, and the room became oddly silent. 

Cross didn't know why the air in the room suddenly became thick with tension- nor was he able to even begin to try to decipher the look and emotions on Nightmare’s face. After a few moments of silence, he (perhaps foolishly) decided to break it.

“... I guess this means that you didn't know, then?”

Nightmare looked up from Cross’ wrist, his look still unreadable. That was all the answer he needed. Cross swallowed before he asked another question.

“If you didn't know, then why _did_ you choose me?” He asked.

Nightmare’s single cyan eye light stared at him. Cross could practically _feel_ his emotions and thoughts being picked apart one by one, stripping him and leaving him bare in front of the other, revealing his innermost thoughts, desires, and insecurities.

Then, after a few seconds, a twinkle of mischief glittered in Nightmare’s eye light as he smirked.

“That, Cross,” He said with a low chuckle as he let go of Cross’ arm, sitting back down in his chair. “Is something that you will never know.” Then he waved with his hand. “You are both dismissed.”

Righteous indignation and fury coursed through him- but somehow he knew that if he said anything more, he would get in trouble, and he had already seen what had happened if someone got in trouble. 

So instead, he did as he was asked and walked out of the room. Killer followed- although his mood looked to be a little off from what little Cross had seen of his personality. Cross didn’t blame him- he didn’t feel all that comfortable with this knowledge, either. But what was done was done- and if Killer had any complaints, then that wasn’t exactly Cross’ business.

* * *

Cross and Killer had been at odds ever since then.

But that was fine. Cross honestly preferred this. It meant that he didn't have to deal with him. Nightmare seemed to get a kick out of their bickering and disagreements (probably because of how easily Killer could rile Cross up), and it only really infuriated Cross more.

At least he still had the hope that meeting Dream would be better, but he knew that he was just lying to himself. His luck had never been all that good. And even _if_ he found him, Dream would likely be intimidated away by Nightmare and Killer’s insanity before anything could ever happen. 

Now, however, was not the time to think about that. He had a job to do.

He dodged out of the way as a shower of bones fell out of the sky, spearing the ground below him. He hadn’t been the only target of the attack, but Nightmare had- and so it was his job to protect him.

Which, in hindsight, wasn’t exactly a bad job to have (if you decided to ignore the fact that hundreds of people across various AUs felt as though they were, in fact, the bad guys).

And who, you might ask, were they fighting against?

Nightmare’s brother: Drama Queen.

Yes, you read that right.

Cross had decided to shorten it to ‘Drama’ for better use. Apparently, so had everyone else. He felt particularly bad for Drama- his name kept on being the butt-end of every joke, and even when it wasn’t used in jest the other members of his gang would snicker and laugh. And, seeing as he was the only other person who was at the butt-end of jokes in the gang, he felt as though they had a kindred between them. Even if Drama didn’t know it.

He had been at this for a few months now- fighting and gaining territory in this battle for ‘balance’. He assumed that it was called that because Nightmare was the Guardian of Negativity, and Drama the Guardian of Positivity- but whenever Cross was able to watch long enough during their battles, he couldn’t help but feel like the conflict ran deeper than just two brothers fighting over emotions.

And, _no- he hadn’t been watching Nightmare!_

He had, actually, been watching Drama.

Even as they fought, Cross couldn’t help but wish to be closer to him. And not for his ‘aura’, he felt the need to get to know Drama even when they were far apart. He wanted to see Drama smile and laugh- to see him relax and be happy. He had been tempted many-a-time to sneak out of the castle to try and do so, but alas- he had no idea where the yellow-clad guardian went when they weren’t fighting. He’d ask for the other’s number, but he wasn’t sure if that was an inappropriate thing to do while they were fighting.

Normally he’d worry about what his soulmates would think of this, but in all honesty he didn't care right now. They had both been jerks to him ever since he had arrived, and he was pretty sure there weren’t any feelings that would be hurt if he decided to start talking to Drama. And if they would’ve been hurt, then both Nightmare and Killer needed reality checks because tripping someone and then laughing at them after they couldn’t get back up again because of the soap on the floor was NOT how you proclaimed your love to someone.

Why yes, he _is_ still upset about that. 

Well, actually, Nightmare might feel a bit betrayed- but only because Cross was a part of his gang. The emotions likely wouldn’t be anywhere near related to romantic.

But that’s only if he gets caught.

Maybe, if he could get Drama away from the battle, he’d be able to ask. 

He used a blaster to shield Nightmare from a surprise hammer attack from Blue even as he moved to directly attack Drama. He ducked under Ink’s brush and dodged past his ink too, purposefully missing Drama by just a hair’s width. When he went to attack again his attack was blocked by a golden staff. Cross looked up, and his eye lights locked with a pair of golden ones.

He smirked.

“Care to dance?”

Before Drama could reply, he moved his sword to attack again. Drama was quick to block the attack. Their movements were blurred as they moved together- Cross fighting _just_ hard enough to make it look real, but not hard enough to do any damage.

When Drama tried to teleport a short distance away, Cross didn't hesitate to follow.

This continued for a while- until the sounds of the other’s battles were a good distance away. Arrows flew past his head, but he either dodged or blocked them.

… crap wait how was he supposed to ask him for his number? He hadn’t thought this through dang-it!

It was normal for people to just ask out-right, right? That’s what they did in the movies, so...

“So,” He lunged forward and then rolled to the side, smiling what he _hoped_ was an attractive smile. “Drama,” He winked. “Care to give me your number?”

Dream blinked.

He blinked again.

And then, without a second thought, switched from his bow to his staff and used it to pin Cross down on the ground. Cross grunted as he did so, but the next thing he knew Drama was leaning down close enough for all of his gay panic alarms to go off.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re cute.” He answered honestly, and he internally slapped himself when he realized what he had said out loud. Drama leaned back a little, which Cross was grateful for. It allowed him to think and, hopefully, not make a fool of himself further.

“Aren’t you in Night’s gang though?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really care.”

Drama studied him for a few moments.

“Don’t you have a soulmate? Or soulmates?” He asked.

“Soulmates,” He admitted, “But yeah, but neither of them like me.” 

“Are you sure?” Drama asked, his tone concerned. 

“Absolutely positive.”

“Well then, uh…”

“Cross.”

 _“Cross,”_ Drama said carefully, and Cross could feel his soul flip a little in his chest. “As tempting of an offer as that is, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.” He gave a small, awkward, and apologetic smile. “Just because things are rough between you and your soulmates doesn’t mean that you can’t figure things out in the future! It also doesn’t mean that they hate you or anything like that. In fact, I’m sure they love you- or at the very least enjoy your presence.” 

“But-”

“And besides-” He rolled his eye lights. “You didn't even get my name right.”

“... what.”

Drama removed his staff from Cross, offering him a hand. Cross accepted it, allowing Drama to help him up.

“Yeah! They probably just told you one of their nicknames for me.” He shrugged. “ _‘Drama’_ certainly isn’t the worst insult, in my opinion.”

“... the full thing’s _‘Drama Queen.’_ ”

“Oh.” He shrugged again. “Regardless, it’s certainly not the worst! Anyway,” He scratched the back of his skull. “I know it’s not what you were hoping for, but maybe we could be friends instead?”

“Sure.” He agreed automatically, a bit stunned. Drama turned to leave- presumably to return to the battle- but Cross reached out and grabbed his hand before he could leave. “Wait- if your name isn’t Drama Queen, what is it?”

Drama paused, and then looked over his shoulder at Cross. Then he let out a beautiful smile- entirely unaware of the effect that his next words would have on Cross.

“My name is Dream.”

**Author's Note:**

> As said above in tags- if you want more, go write it yourself XD
> 
> Fun fact 1: Nightmare picked Cross because he found him attractive. He was scouting worlds, came across Cross, found him attractive, and then decided that Cross was his now.
> 
> Fun fact 2: Dream has absolutely no idea that Nightmare has found their soulmates, or that Cross is his soul mate (and I can assure you that he doesn't find out any time soon, either).
> 
> Fun fact 3: I couldn't find anywhere to put this in the fic, but I have an idea for Ink, Blue, and Error's names. When Ink tore apart his soul, his name was "whited-out" for his other soulmates, meaning that the letters in Sans became white instead of black. It wasn't erased, but it's not exactly visible either. Geno found that determination could make Ink's (or "Sans'") name appear, but he took it too far and ended up in the Anti-Void. When Error turned into an ERROR, his name glitched out so hard on his soulmates' arms that it's indecipherable. Sometimes it'll read clearly as "Sans", but that has a 00.00000001% chance of happening. No, it doesn't read as "Geno" or "Error" either. Just a bunch of random, constantly moving "glitches" that would move across Ink and Blue's arms.
> 
> Anyway- thank you for reading! If you want, drop a comment down below! I'd love to hear what you thought!


End file.
